Fridays have been date nights for Brenda Leigh and Sharon for the past four months, something they instituted not long after their relationship began. Though they spend four or five nights a week together, and have been since they started dating, Fridays, they go out. At first, their date nights were spent in out of the way restaurants or quiet clubs where they wouldn't encounter any co-workers. They shared many meals, many bottles of wine and talked for hours and hours.
Sharon has found she loves to dress the chief for their nights on the town. Tonight she laid out a slinky black Calvin Klein sheath that would leave her lover's delicately muscled back bare from the nape of her neck to the lovely dimples just above her buttocks. She also placed on the bed a shoe box, beautifully wrapped. Brenda Leigh's black pumps had been scuffed horribly at a crime scene a few weeks ago, and Sharon had been unable to walk by the three inch black lambskin Louboutins when she had been shopping downtown last weekend.
For herself, Sharon had chosen a Balenciaga cocktail dress that quite prominently displayed her chest and cleavage. It was the color of Brenda Leigh's favorite merlot and made of a few layers of sheer organza. Without the color matched strapless balconette bra that she wore underneath, every dimple and pucker of her areola would be visible to her lover through the dress. Sharon Raydor had stacked the deck in favor of getting very, very lucky later that evening.
This Friday night, Brenda Leigh and Sharon had already shared a delicious meal and a lovely bottle of merlot at a very nice restaurant. Now they were going to share the dance floor at a nice little club for women that they discovered a few weeks before. Sharon Raydor loves to dance and Brenda Leigh Johnson loves to watch her.
At the club, Sharon coat checked their wraps and clutches and tucked the ticket into her bra. Brenda had a possessive hand on the small of the older woman's back as soon as they walked in the door. Every time they go dancing, every single person in the establishment either hits on Sharon or has to restrain their date from doing so. Every time Sharon only had eyes for Brenda Leigh, and Brenda Leigh never felt more beautiful.
They started with a slow dance, bodies pressed together from knee to forehead. Brenda Leigh looked deep into the light green eyes of the woman that routinely captivated, infuriated and intoxicated her and wondered, as always, how she had gotten so lucky. She could feel Sharon's fingers ghosting along her spine, dusting the top of her tailbone.
When the music got faster, horns with a rumbling percussion line, they dance like they used to fight; fierce and combative and full of tension, but they were dancing close and the tension was just for them, just they way they'd found they liked it.
They danced for over an hour like this, taking a break for water and sitting out a few fast ones in order to conserve energy. After a final slow dance where Sharon found herself sliding her hand up the inside of Brenda Leigh's thighs almost to their apex, they claimed their outerwear and bags and slipped out into the street, hand in hand.
The L.A. night was cool and the normally busy streets were empty. Brenda Leigh and Sharon's heels clicked echoing-ly across the sidewalks. As they approached the alley that ran alongside the warehouse that contained the club, they heard a scream and a wet squelch that was almost certainly the sound of something hard hitting flesh. They froze. Brenda Leigh snapped open her clutch and pulled out a snub nosed .22 revolver.
"You checked a bag that had a gun in it, Brenda Leigh?" Sharon hissed.
Brenda Leigh didn't fight the urge to roll her eyes, knowing it was too dark for Sharon to see.
"It's not like this dress left me a place to hide my gun, Shari. I coulda worn a thigh holster, but then you woulda gotten a nasty surprise when you were feeling me up so sweetly back in that club." She popped open the cylinder, spun it once, and slapped it shut quietly.
"Got your badge, baby?" Brenda asked. Sharon nodded, and they both crept down the alley, doing their best to keep the heels of their shoes from making too much noise.
Just past the dumpster at the edge of the building, the security lights illuminated a man crouched over an inert figure sprawled supine on the pavement.
Brenda trained her gun on the man. "LAPD. Put your hands on your head." Brenda's voice was steady and loud. Sharon saw the man tense like he was going to run. She readied herself to chase if he did, prepared to kick off her shoes and hitch up her dress. She really did not want to tackle someone in this dress.
"If you run, I will shoot you because I am sure as hell not running in these shoes." Brenda Leigh was pissed. She could see her plans for the rest of the evening rapidly circling the drain. "Now put your hands on your head and move away from the body."
The suspect inched away from the figure on the ground. "Further. Good, face down on the pavement. Now move, and I'll put a bullet between your shoulder blades. Do you have cuffs, Shari, or are we just going to have wait this out?"
"Yea, I got it chief. Cover me." Sharon rummaged in the evening bag she carried.
"Always. Cuff him and check the victim; I'll call it in."
Sharon put a knee on the man's back and wrenched his arms down to cuff him. She slapped the cuffs on maybe a little harder than necessary and flipped the perp onto his side. Positional asphyxia of a suspect was the last thing they needed tonight.
The victim was a young woman dressed up for a night out. There were darkening bruises on her face and neck, but Sharon found a strong pulse. She did her best to touch nothing else, hoping to preserve any evidence for the eventual investigators.
"She's alive Brenda."
Brenda was already on the phone with the desk sergeant at HQ. "This is Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. I've got an assault victim and suspect in the alley off 901 East First Street. I need a bus and back up at my location, post haste." She hung up and returned her off hand to the pistol.
Then she stomped her beautifully shod foot and said petulantly, "This is just absurd. All I want is to go home and have sex, Shari. All that build up wasted."
Sharon chuckled. "Crime can be such a cock block, baby," she said, catching her lover's eye across the alleyway. Brenda Leigh scowled at her.
Sharon knelt next to the victim on her folded wrap, a hand on the young woman's shoulder, murmuring softly to the unconscious woman. She could hear the sirens already.
The bus pulled up first. Brenda moved out of the way of the paramedics, still keeping her gun trained on the suspect. Sharon rose to stand next to the chief, flashing her badge at the paramedics as they bustled by with their bags. They stood next to each other quietly, knowing that the next couple of hours would be full of questions. Sharon brushed her fingers across the skirt of Brenda Leigh's dress, wanting nothing more than to hold her lover's hand.
A black and white pulled up, lights flashing. Two uniforms jumped out of the car, guns trained on...Brenda?
Sharon reacted before Brenda could get her ire up. "Honestly, boys," she said in that calm voice that characterized most of her professional dealings. She showed her badge to the two impossibly young uniforms. Brenda smirked when she saw them cringe at Sharon's unmistakeable voice dripping with sarcasm. "Would you please take custody of the suspect so Chief Johnson can put her weapon away."
"Yes, Chief Raydor. Sorry, m'am." The uni's holstered their weapons and hauled the man to his feet.
"Mirandize him proper, gentlemen." Brenda said firmly as she tucked her gun back in her clutch.
Brenda and Sharon loitered as the paramedics finished up the victim. She was going to Good Samaritan for a concussion and a rape kit, though the paramedics didn't think the suspect got to do anything more than pry her legs apart before Brenda and Sharon had intervened.
SID showed up as the bus pulled out. And then two unmarkeds carrying Flynn and Provenza and Chief Pope pulled up.
"Oh joyous day, the calvary is here." Brenda whispered sarcastically to Sharon.
Pope slid under the crime scene tape while Flynn and Provenza conversed with the uniforms.
"Will, this is an unexpected surprise. I can't recall the last time I saw you at a crime scene after close of business." The honeyed sarcasm was just dripping off her drawl.
"Play nice, Brenda Leigh. I still have plans for you and pissing off Pope won't get us home in bed any faster." Sharon said in a low voice. Brenda flushed.
"Good evening ladies. I'm actually here to give you a case, Chief Johnson. You two may have just caught the rapist that has been operating in this area for the past month."
"And this is a major crime how, Chief Pope?"
"Well Brenda, I have two other rape victims, almost no forensic evidence, and now I have a suspect caught in the act. I need a confession. Last time I checked, that was supposed to be your speciality."
The SID techs snapped on their portable lights. Brenda Leigh thought Will's eyes were going to pop out of his head when he got a look at Sharon's dress. His expression blanked out and whatever he had been about to say had clearly flown from his head.
"Eyes up, William," Brenda Leigh growled. It took a moment for the intelligence to return to Pope's eyes, even with both women scowling at him.
"What were you two doing down here any way? Isn't it a little late for you, Brenda?" Pope's eyes keep trailing down to Sharon's cleavage.
"Friday date night, Will. Dinner at Soho House. Dancing at Blush, not that it's even a little of your business." Sharon bit her lip to keep from laughing.
The look on Pope's face was comically blank. "Date night? You two are double dating now? Where are the lucky gentlemen?"
"Oh for Christ's sake, Will. I had dinner and went dancing with my girlfriend. And if you could kindly keep your eyes out of her décolletage, it would make me ever so happy."
"Your GIRLFRIEND, Brenda?" Pope's voice was loud and a little hysterical. Brenda Leigh slid her hand into Sharon's. Will worked himself into a tizzy. "I would say I can't believe your behavior, but dear god I shouldn't be surprised be anything anymore."
"Calm down, Will. Getting worked up like this can't be good for your health." Pope's face was a particularly alarming shade of purple, and it seemed that he could no longer form words. Brenda seemed satisfied by this outcome.
Looking up from where he and Flynn were discussing nothing that had to do with how attractive the two female chiefs looked, Provenza thought it was time to intervene before his chief pistol whipped Pope for ogling Raydor.
Provenza had been in Andy's basement shooting pool and keeping an eye on the Dodger's game when the desk sergeant at HQ had called to give him the heads up about the chief's involvement in apprehending a potential rapist. In the car, he had informed Flynn that Chief Johnson had probably been out with Raydor:
"I think they usually go out on Fridays, yea." Andy said nonchalantly. Provenza was incensed.
"What? How did you know that? How long have you known?" His eyes bugged out a little.
"We are supposed to be detectives, Louie." Andy's voice held a note of reproach, but Provenza continued to give him the gimlet eye.
"Fine. I saw them having a moment in the stairwell a few months back."
"A moment? Do tell." Provenza waggled his eyebrows.
"You are such a perv." Andy's voice was definitely disapproving now. "It wasn't like that. Raydor was working on that case where that little girl got caught in the crossfire between her bastard father and those poor SOB's from Hollywood division. The chief was giving Raydor a little TLC. It was pretty sweet, actually." Provenza looked a little disappointed that there were no prurient details to be had.
"How did you find out about them, Louie?"
"Fritz." Flynn shot him a look. "Poor bastard walked in on them at their old apartment. Got an eyeful." Andy laughed outright.
"Using the key to a previously shared domicile without permission. That's rule number 16, isn't it?"
"The very same."
"We should publish those or something."
At the sound of Pope's raised voice, Flynn had sidled away from their conversation, plowed in to the awkward and tense huddle of chiefs, and turned on his smarmiest charm.
"Chief Johnson, Chief Raydor. You're both looking fabulous tonight. If you will just step over to the car, Provenza and I will take your statements and then the two of you can be on your way."
"Bless you, Lieutenant Flynn." She squeezed Sharon's hand. "Shari, you want to go with Andy and I'll take Provenza."
It took all of fifteen minutes for Brenda Leigh's detectives to take their statements. The suspect would be waiting at HQ for Brenda in the morning, and the victim's concussion would make talking to her difficult until early afternoon at the soonest.
As Brenda signed her statement, Provenza did his best to not ogle the bare back of his chief.
"That is some dress, chief."
"Thank you, Louie. It was a gift from Sharon. The shoes too." She smirked at the Lieutenant. "I am just glad I didn't have to tackle anyone, tonight." She cut her eyes over at Pope. "Though I might still have to."
"Ah, about that, Chief. Don't worry about anything with the squad. We're all in your corner, you know."
"Are you sure you aren't saying that because you'd rather see me kiss Sharon than fight with her?" The chief's eyes were sparkling with humor.
"Well, that might be number one on my priority list, but you've been happy the past few months, and if Raydor is partly responsible for that, I'm all for it."
"Thank you, Louie. And don't worry, I won't let it get out that you're an old romantic softie."
"I appreciate that courtesy, Chief. You two go on home now. Flynn and I will deal with Pope."
"No, lieutenant, Pope is Sharon and my problem. Let us handle him."
Brenda excused herself and slipped back under the crime scene tape to where Pope hadn't moved since she and Sharon had excused themselves. She bit back the urge to be rude, to be defensive. She and Sharon were done with hiding, done with going to Santa Monica and Long Beach and Santa Ana for dinner and dancing. This had been their first date night in L.A. - the first where they had comported themselves as a couple - and with the exception of the whole interrupting a rape in progress thing, and the whole catching a case thing, it had been a wonderful, romantic evening. She needed, if not Will's support, then his recognition that this wasn't going away, and that she wouldn't be intimidated.
"Chief Pope." He didn't respond and she stepped closer. "Will. SID and the uniforms want to wrap up here." She touched him on the arm. He started. "Will. It's time to leave." When he came back to himself, she was glad to see that there was no longer anger in his face. She opened her mouth again, but he stopped her.
"Brenda. I'm not mad anymore. Just..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sometimes, the things you do just completely fall outside the realm of what I think is possible." Brenda had to count to ten before answering to keep from laying into him. The man was lucky he was her boss, because if this was purely personal, she would have slapped him.
"My personal life has been none of your business for nearly two decades, Will. And as for the professional, we took steps with HR months ago, to protect the chain of command and any performance reviews and hiring and firing and such."
"I'm glad to know that Raydor has done at least a little to temper your usual disregard for procedure."
"She can be quite persuasive, when she's motivated." She shot Will a wicked smirk that was also part sneer. He shifted uncomfortably, knowing he was treading the line where she would take off the gloves that protected their working relationship.
"If we're finished here, Chief Pope, I would like to go home. I'll talk to the suspect and the victim in the morning after I check the case files for the other two rapes. And Monday I'll have the HR woman we talked to fax you the paperwork we had put together."
"Don't forget. And play it smart, Brenda. I don't need egg on my face for this."
She turned without another word and headed back to where Raydor was waiting, leaning against the bumper of Flynn and Provenza's Crown Vic. The look on Raydor's face when she made eye contact with Brenda was intense and full of a promise that Will couldn't let himself think about. He just hoped that this didn't blow up for anyone, especially him.